Maiko Month
by Kasaihanaa
Summary: A series of One-Shots and mini-fic for the wonderful month of May, all dedicated to Mai & Zuko
1. Chapter 1

Pairing: Mai/Zuko

Rating: PG13 [Just to be safe]

Summary: A morning of innocent maiko fluff.

Preview: "Give them back."

"Stop whining, I'll take it all off right after breakfast." A playful eye roll followed, accented by a soft smile that tugged at Mai's lips. It had been three days she had done this, wake up mid afternoon, and rummage the unsightly piles of clothes that littered the floor. "—relax, no one's going to see me anyway."

It made her happy, breathing the scent of his clothes, and being able to keep his presence draped continuously over her limbs. Although unattractive, the rather large pair of pants, and just as large cardinal flannel was his, which made it all the more desirable.

She eyed his pout with a fondness no one seemed to understand but herself, as disgruntled as the expression was, she could still find small details that made any face he could conjure up, something for her to behold. Slender fingers ran the length of his cheek, tracing his jawline before retreating to the safety of her lap, and soft kiss pressed to his temple, a silent, 'i love you' on her terms, where words couldn't leave her lips. "Come on, I'll make tea."

—-

Zuko watched endearingly, the raven strands of hair falling gracefully down her shoulders, even when she had woken up only moments ago, it was charming, knowing she could literally be in or look like anything, and he would love her all the same.

He couldn't place it, what about the checkered fabric that was strewn across her shoulders was so enthralling? Maybe, it was the subtle rise and fall of her visage underneath, that he could point out with each breath, or it could have just been the simplicity of it.

That was it, it was so blatantly simple, effortless, and she looked—-beautiful. Without realization, he had cut a path to her side, encircling his arms around his middle and returning the kiss from earlier onto her temple, before resting his chin comfortably on her shoulder. "Morning." He muttered softly watching her hands work as they trailed from the tea leaves, to the pot, and finally to the sink.

—-

"You said that already." She sighed, in mock annoyance, although the soft smile would easily compensate for her true feelings. "What's the occasion? You're being affectionate today."It was true really, but that was easy enough to piece together. He was gone a lot more than she'd like, with work pulling him away, it only made sense for him to cling to these moments. Setting the teapot down, she turned to face him, leaning against the edge of the counter top for support. "—fine, good morning, Zuko."

The tip of her index finger had moved to trace the outline of his scar, watching the redness of his lids close at her caress, he was beautiful in that way, not like other men, just by the rough marred skin on his face, she could say what she loved about him. Strength, kindness, and pride, all of those characteristics jumbled into one, complicated mark, that could have shattered anyone else—but not him.

Never was it overwhelming though, the scent of his clothes, or the sudden embrace, it made her feel loved, even if the words went unspoken in most occasions, she knew, and she didn't have to say it as soon as her had ran its course, she pulled away, and turned out of his grasp, forgetting about the tea and heading quickly into the room. "I'll be right back."

—

Zuko followed, without her consent, watching every step that carried the two to their room, before stopping abruptly at a door being closed in his face. "I said id be right back!" She chimed, a soft thud hitting the door for emphasis as she spoke. It wasn't angry, he knew, so he leaned impatiently against the wall awaiting her approval to enter the room.

Within a few more moments, he heard the quick click of the lock, and took that a reassurance to be let in. "What were you doing?" He asked arching a brow quizzically as he looked at the vacancy of their bedroom, Mai no where to be found.

"Out here, dork." She called from the door that led to the balcony of the palace. "I figured you were right, I should change." Mai smiled a little, just enough to keep her composure, but also enough to cause Zuko to blush. His cheeks burned red in the instant she turned, same flannel shrugged off her shoulders, and his pants replaced with his boxers she likely pulled from the drawer. Her lips parted and she held out her hand, reaching to pull him forward, "Morning."

His cheeks kept their scarlet flush, and he reached slowly, lacing his fingers into hers. It was delicate that way, soft touches and slow movements, nothing rushed or forced, they were forging time anyway, so they took each word, and touch as a gift. Zuko's gaze met hers, and lingered a moment, another silent 'i love you' that wouldn't quite pass his lips, not that it ever needed to. Giving her an innocent kiss, he placed his hands on her waist, brushing his lips against her bangs,"—you said that already."


	2. Chapter 2

Maiko Month: Day one: Injustice

Pairing: Mai/Zuko

Word count: 1829

Rating: M (tw: implied sexual assault, murder, and insanity)

Preview:"I think I can get you out in a month, maybe three weeks if I try."

"You said that a month ago."

"I said i'd try."

By the time she's let out, its been three months. Apparently something went right, since the world wasn't burned to hell. The sun glimmers too brightly, so she hisses under her breath, but there's a few things to look forward to, so the sun was just a small inconvenience.

There isn't much to look at, only squalid details of the floor. She liked it that way—darkness, she guessed, it brought a comfort she couldn't place if she tried. A guard was killed, the metal that impaled his chest came from a single knife she had managed to keep hidden in her robes. It was gone now, so she figured it was put to good enough use. He had tried to touch her after all.

Ty Lee was gone, so that left her alone, seeing someone as a leader came with a price. So, it was only logical she was stripped of her too. Guards slipped in and out, some saying too much, others nothing at all. Since the event with the guard turned dead man, they started to use the slit in the door for everything but changing the thin sheets that covered the mattress on the floor.

—…

"Heard she tried to protect the prince."

"Turned traitor out of being a love sick puppy, pity."

They talk like that, for hours, it's most of what she hears when they pass by. She doesn't regret it though, maybe its a reminder of how fragile shed become. Her thoughts were scattered that day anyway, a lot like the time she'd spent in her cell. There's little dents in the plaster that coat the metal walls, trying to keep track of the days. With her knife gone, it makes it difficult, and she forgets after a week.

—…..

Mai's uncle comes once a week, to make sure she's okay, and talk about 'pulling strings'. She curses him under her breath a lot, but he doesn't know, so she thanks him anyway.

"How you holding up?"

"Great, I can finally atone for my actions."

It's sarcastic and cold, so her uncle only blinks.

"I think I can get you out in a month, maybe three weeks if I try."

"You said that a month ago."

"I said i'd try."

By the time she's let out, its been three months. Apparently something went right, since the world wasn't burned to hell. The sun glimmers too brightly, so she hisses under her breath, but there's a few things to look forward to, so the sun was just a small inconvenience.

—…

The first time they talk it's quiet, there's bandages underneath his tunic, she can see the white. It reminds her of the plaster, and the nicks she could see when the cell was lit. He's beautiful, and she had almost how easy it was to lose herself in his eyes. Just as quickly she forgets the days, and the walls.

"Hey."

He smiles and turns, and she blushes, and remembers she hates it.

"Hey."

"I guess this means you won."

"What makes you say that?"

"You aren't dead."

He seems to frown, so she brushes her fingers against his cheek and followed their trail with her lips. It means she's happy he won, although he's likely an idiot and couldn't figure it out. Pulling away, she smirks at the red that's shows up on his face. Mai let's out a sigh, and softly adds a kiss.

"I missed you."

"Are you okay?"

"Mostly."

Zuko only blinks, and the red fades, as she watches him try to piece it together.

—…

It's weeks later, and he's gone a lot, Fire Lord comes with duties, so she's left to sit alone for hours at a time. Mai reads, or feeds turtleducks, trying to be like him—-trying to make sense of it. She can't, and it bothers her.

Servants moved around like clockwork, like the guards shadows she could see through the slit, its different now, they aren't scared of her. They should be.

—…

Mai's breathing hard, and his hands are on her chest. It's the first time they've tried having sex since she got back. He's gentle, as usual, but as soon and he fumbles nervously with the hem of her pants, and his hands jerk, she screams.

Confusion is written on his face, it's almost indetectable, but since he can read her expressions, she had decided to learn too. Zuko pulled back, sitting crosslegged on the end of the bed, keeping his stomach tight so he wouldnt fall backward onto the floor. Mai follows suit, and folds her arms over her chest, covering her breasts so he can't look.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

"You didn't want to."

"I did, Zuko."

"But not anymore."

"No."

It wasn't right to leave out the explanation, but she wouldn't blame him if he hated her for it. She'd hidden it from herself after all. The second time he got the guard in the chest, the first—he won. She figured it made them even.

Another few days pass, and he goes on about visiting his sister. It takes everything she has to hide her snarl, but her eyes display her anger and she glares at the floor. It's a bad decision, but she's acting out of pride, so she insists she come along, and through a few well placed excuses, and he reluctantly brings himself to oblige.

His hands are laid casually in his lap. He isn't on edge like before, when she was in chains. The wheels were crooked, small details he had learned to look at when he was little. Being overly analytic was something he thought would help when it came to trying to please his family, it was futile of course, but he still tried. Then, banishment came, and he collapsed, there was no more processing, he was frantic.

Mai was looking as stone faced as ever, the only thing that strayed his path was her fingers that dug into hand. She was nervous, he was too.

"Is she any different now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Last I saw her she tried to kill me." He'd didn't know that in a way, she did.

Zuko stayed silent, keeping his gaze low, looking at the eroded wood of the wheels of the chair his sister would sit in.

_…

She's walked in by four workers, two hold the straps down that buckle around her back, the others on guard in case she tries anything. It would have maddening, for him to see. Her face has sunken, and her hair had grown matted over her grayed features.

The straps look tight, and his eyes have finally moved from the wheels. He forces a smile, and she takes it as a a blatant insult on her condition.

"Zuzu."

"It's nice to see you."

"Don't give me that, what the fuck do you want?"

His gaze falls again, this time on Mai's fingers, they've relaxed now, but the marks from her nails are still there. He almost wishes he never brought her.

"—i'm your brother, I'm supposed…."

"Bullshit."

Mai spoke out that time, he guessed it was because he was behaving like an animal with it's tail timidly tucked between its legs. He wanted to bark back, but he knew she wouldn't let him.

"He's here, because he pity's you."

"Oh, that's ripe, now you're being defended by your lap dog, eh, Zuzu?"

He stays silent, and shoots her a glare, ignoring Mai as she keeps up her retorts.

"He pity's you, because you're here, in hell, he feels—guilty." She's hostile, he can tell, and his fingers have pressed into the arm of his chair, debating when to interfere.

Azula's eyes have started to dart, madly twitching from his face to Mai's as though she's contemplating to batter first. She picks Mai.

"You'd know hell, wouldn't you? I—put you, there."

Mai's brow furrows, and Zuko is standing, he isn't sure when he got there, but his fingers are wrapped protectively around her shoulders. Azula's going on about something, about betrayal,he's gotten the same speech from her before, so he just stays there, keeping his mind focused on the shivers of her shoulder blades, and his gaze locked on his sister's lips.

"Shut up, Azula."

"Tell me, Mai-Mai, is it everything you thought it would be? You brought me here after all, you_ broke_ me. Put hell, inside my _head_. So I wanted to give you hell, back. Did it..work?" her voice is broken and ragged, the syllables sound like nails grinding along metal. She's creating blows, where lightning can't exist, and Zuko thinks she's had enough.

"Mai, come on, this was a bad idea, we're going." His hands have slid to her wrists and he's tugging her for the door.

"No!" Her stoic demeanor had fell, and her lips were curled into a snarl, he knew she was stronger than Azula's response, but now, he wasn't so sure. "You wanted me in hell? You got me there, I hope you're happy…it wasn't just prison."

"Mai, what are you..?"

"They _touched_ me, Zuko."

"What?"

His hand had fell, and his expression mirrored an intense worry. She was broken, and he hadn't noticed, and now he knew there was another failure to add to the list. Animosity overrun the gold of his eyes, and a growl grew in his chest. It was like he was blacking out, and the movements came in frames, until he found himself at his sister's feet, his fingers enclosed around her throat. Azula remained composed, and it almost pushed him more.

"What the hell, did you do?!"

"I didn't do a thing, that's the best part!"

He disregarded the sadistic cackle that followed, and clenched his fists at his sides, no use losing it now. "Shut up!"

"Oh Zuzu, it's only—_justice_."

Her eyes were more crazed, glazed over with hatred, all for what she had become. Zuko hated it, and he wanted to hate her. He turned on his heel, fighting every urge to turn back and revisit the pressure of his hands pressed against the skin of her neck.

—…

They made it back to the palanquin, and he's shaking. Mai's trying not to cry, having burrowed into his arms and pressed her face into his chest.

"You didn't tell me."

"I didn't want to."

"You should have."

It's a long ride home, even if it's only a few blocks out of town, she doesn't move from her spot, and her grip his tightened loosely on his robes. She finally looks up and she sighs, wiping her eyes before trying desperately to regain her composure. He asks what happened, and she shakes her head, only talking about the guard, and how he fell dead. What hurt the most, he knew, wasn't what he'd done, and it drove her mad, what killed her was the thought, the sharp metal she drove into his chest.

It was calming, only because he finally understood. The night they tried to lie alone, when his fingers jerked, it reminded her of her own, the flick of her wrist as the knife flew, and she was scared she'd kill him too.

"You didn't feel anything?"

"Nothing."

"You didn't want to."

"I did, Zuko."

"But not anymore."

"No."


	3. Chapter 3

Rating: M [Not too bad on the smut radar, cause sexual words scare me]

Pairing: Mai/Zuko obvi

Word Count: 489

Summary: Maid's closet sex, anyone?

His lips pressed quickly to hers, suppressing the loud moan that was sure to trail from her trembling lips, "—we have to keep quiet, you said it yourself." He whispered softly, running his hand down the length of her side before curling it beneath her and pulling her forward, closing whatever unwanted space remained between them.

She was striking, sharp, and beautiful, but had he been asked to sum up alabaster features and onyx strands into one word, he might have easily uttered one word—perfect. Although, the scene at hand was far from such. A maid's closet. It was clumsy enough, towels and metal dustpans creating unwanted noise that was sure to be heard down the hall, and was accented by the high, and low pitched notes of ecstasy that seemed to flow through the air in unison.

Mai though, although quiet and calculative in any other setting, was now…rather, exuberant and enthusiastic. A trait Zuko wouldn't have minded in the bedroom, but when keeping a low profile on palace grounds, within a maid's closet, her loud demeanor was difficult to handle, and was poorly suppressed by Zuko's quickly placed lips crashing into her own. She did enjoy this though, the roll of his hips against her own, and the spark that ignited in her nerves as it continued.

The intimacy was only added to with their spontaneity, stolen instances between meetings, a chaste kiss, which grew into playful one, and then quickly progressed into a loving desperation neither wanted to have the willpower to control. From there, it was a quick tug down the corridor, and into the closet. Not the ideal location, and the lack of locks was unsettling, but time was of the essence and neither of them was willing to sacrifice a single second.

By now, they had found themselves on the storage room's floor, robes askew, and top knot completely gone amiss, hands roaming anywhere they could manage. Breaths released in whimpers and sighs, and Zuko quickly found himself burying his face into her neck, laying kissing just over her pulse, and drinking in the radiance the small tone of her heartbeat could emit along with the small moans and hushed gasps that would escape her lips.

His chest slid against hers and pressed, quickening in pace with each small murmur of his breath, and swiftly progressing thrust of his hips, before releasing a drawn out whimper, and tightening his grip, as nerves ignited and his fingers dug into her skin. Hungry kisses were pressed into his shoulders, stifling pleasant moans he had pulled with each shift, and nails clawed at his back, accenting the small spasms that grew in magnitude with her spark, before they drew in a wave, and engulfed her muscles, causing her tense up completely, biting into where she had last kissed, and with a quick gasp for air she let the name slip, "Z-Zuko.."


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Sunlight

Summary: Quite a few people covered Boiling Rock, so I figured why not do so without the double betrayal ending.

Warnings: Character death

Word Count: 672

"You're an idiot, you're a damn idiot." Mai mutters, shoving past the guard who finally let her out of the cell. Her eyes are heavy with tears but she still refuses to let them fall.

_I don't need any protection._

_Trust me, she doesn't._

"I don't but **you** do." The conversation is carried out amongst herself, drowning out the nerves that have ignited in her limbs. She knows what she's doing, and once she's finished, she knows how it will end.

_So that's what sunlight feels like. _Of course she's sat in it before, but such a conviction as the one she's going to face, she lets the ray hit, and she takes them in. Metal has shot between her fingers, and she has the blade ready to be thrown. In contrast to the sunlight, they're much more chilling than she remembers.

The rioters pay no notice, and she slips by, straight through, the fire narrowly missing her as she walks swiftly up the steps. Maybe she's stalling she isn't sure, hoping the idiot can figure it out, that he's making a mistake, that there's a potential he can lose.

Or maybe, it was that he was leaving her again, and that last look wasn't enough. Even if it said he was doing this in part for her, it wasn't enough. She hears the words of cutting lines and her feet carry her in a sprint. The knife flies form her fingers, and her eyes watch it's tip, watching the fabric of their uniforms wherever they hit.

_Saving the Jerk who dumped me._

There's no emotion behind it, it's all hidden in the tears, the ones she blinked back and saved for well after she was dead. She supposed that moment would come soon. The gondola was back in motion, and she turned, tiny specs of gold. Of course they weren't easy enough to be seen, but it was enough for her to be sure.

She backs down after that, having pinned the majority, her arms held behind her and she keeps as stoic as ever. Inwardly, the conversation progresses, but she doesn't doubt herself a bit.

_You're going to die here, Mai._

_I don't care._

_You don't believe that do you?_

_I believe in him, if he's dead, there won't be anything left to believe __**in**__._

_So you're giving up your life for a boy?_

_Seems that way._

_He left you._

_This time I let him. _

__She can't hear most of what happens next, the small moments, kisses shared, and little hugs, maybe a brush of his fingers. She tries to remember their feeling, in case when she's gone, she forgets. That was it, that's why she did it, that pile of emotions she had spent years trying to tuck away, in order to please them, people who wanted her to be quiet—collected, and detached, and she believed them, nothing was holding her here. Now, she realized it was him.

Her brows furrowed, hearing Azula talking about fear, the feeling has left her, buried in the memories she now plans to take to her grave.

_Love._ She's said it, the word she never thought would cross her lips, but it's there, and it fell off her tongue seamlessly, she's proud now, maybe determined, and her knife is now unconsciously poised in her hand. Azula's fingers move, and she watches, ready to throw as soon as she shoots.

It's a flash and a thud, and they both fall. Azula in the chest, and Mai too. She's cringing, she can feel it, but it passes in waves, it numbs her nerves, and she tries to think of the memories, small moments, kisses shared, and little hugs, maybe a brush of his fingers. Before her eyes close, and the darkness pools.

_You're scared?_

_Should I be?_

_You're dying here, Mai. For him. _

_Then i'm not._

_—and why's that?_

She ignores it, drinking in the warmth, remembering his arms around her own trying to keep her warm when she said she was cold.

_Because that's what sunlight feels like._


	5. Chapter 5

Maiko Month Day: 9 [?] Lightning

AN: The way I write the titles keeps changing, HASHTAG YOLO I really don't like this one, but i'm going to pretend to. If there's typos I'm sorry, I usually go in and fix them much, much later.

Warnings: None

Summary: Mai and Zuko are both of lightning for similar reasons.

word count: 708

He was curled up against the corner of the mattress, propped against headboard again. The small flashes causing him to flinch every few seconds. Mai's fingers had slipped into his, sitting cross legged in front of him, before breaking away and reaching up to cover his ears.

Zuko hated it. It was embarrassing, his fears, and how it triggered him. She'd tell him to close his eyes but he'd refuse, trying to fight it off, prove that it no longer bothered him. Keeping them open, he'd stay locked on her, the pale gold, and then it suddenly shift to that painful blue, for a split second, and he'd shut them tight.

"Zuko, there's nothing to be scared of."

"Shut up." As he hissed and opened his eyes, Mai would wince.

It was the damned memories, first flames, and then the lightning, it came in pairs. Maybe, it was seeing red, then watching the red fade to that painful blue, the same shade that took over eyes whenever he'd dare to open them again. She knew, the first. With the red. How it grew and took over his sight, before fading, and leaving him with the rough, destroyed surface of his face.

The second, he liked to think he won. He had, it was true. It wasn't the lightning it was the thought, the blue. It came, and he would catch, his limbs shaking, when at the time they were strong. His fingers turning to return it back. It worked then, but now it was the flash, knowing. Knowing his father had every intention of killing him again. There no second thoughts no debate, the lightning, it wanted him dead.

Watching the same quick change in color, reminded him of her, knowing that the same flash could have occurred and stolen her away too. That fear was worse, worse than his own relation to lightning, and so he kept his eyes shut tighter.

—-

She'd stay quiet a moment, watch his fingers twitch. His skin grew pale too. Mai had her experiences with the lightning too. First, it was a simple fear, as any child. The lightning meant the thunder and the noise set her on edge. She hid it well, her face displayed no fear, even though in her bones she could feel it there. With some hesitation she moved her hands form his ears, positioning herself in his lap, and burying her face in his neck.

"—I thought, you weren't scared."

Mai stayed quiet clinging to his tunic, her fingers wrinkling its ends. Now, it wasn't the childish fear, it was knowing, twice, it had almost taken him, twice by people who should have cared. She hated them for it, for trying to take him away, and watching his muscles tense just at the thought sent a pain through her chest.

"I'm not scared of it."

"Then?" He pressed his face lightly in her hair.

"I'm scared for you."

She hadn't meant to let it slip, the small crack in her foundation, it was a gentle fluctuation, a small pause in the syllables that proved it. It frightened her, and she knew it. She'd watch his nightmares, and his small instances of self doubt, little things—things she couldn't find words to give comfort, and tried to replace a soft touch. Dying, and how close he'd come, on too many occasions, was what scared her, and the flashes were a reminder.

That was the problem for them both. Lightning was the object that wanted to take them away, on more than one occasion. Neither would say it, they would watch each other shake, but they both quietly knew. Zuko's hand would travel up and down her back,the other pressing her face into his shirt, keeping his eyes closed and running his fingers through her hair. They'd stay that way through the night, and never speak of it again, after all neither of them were supposed to be scared.

Zuko swallowed hard, feeling her shoulders jolt ever so slightly underneath her tunic, knowing she was keeping it as subtle as she could. With a sigh he ran his fingers down, finally encircling his arms around her waist and pressing her into his chest.

"I'm scared for you too."


	6. Chapter 6

Maiko Month Prompt Day 12: Family

Summary: Mai and Zuko use their kid as a middle man to tease each other.

Word Count:720

Warnings: None.

AN: Daughter's name is Kaida, Japanese for "Little Dragon" that is my name of choice, and i'm sticking to it.

"Kaida, what are you doing?"

"Dad says, when he was little, he used to wake up every morning and do a hundred hotsquats." She mused, eyebrows pressed together and her little frame rising and falling each time she bent her knees.

"—and you always do what daddy says huh?"

"Well, I if I want to be like him when I grow up, I want to do everything he does!"

Mai let out a small sigh, followed a warm smile. She was only six and already taking after the determination of both of her parents. She had only found out about her bending a year ago, and pressed the two of them to start teaching her forms as soon as possible.

"Why don't you do something mommy wants right now?"

Kaida stops, sitting next to her mother and looking up at her with hopeful eyes. "Okay! What is it? Do I get to learn knives yet?!"

Mai deadpans, remembering the determination again, "No, I said you can't learn those at least until you're ten." Her fingers run the length of her daughter's hair, before tucking a stray strand behind her ear.

"Oh, then what is it?"

A playful smirk crosses the Fire Lady's features at the thought, "you see, your dad is a little—well, he's a bit of a loser. So he's easy to scare." Mai shrugs, resting her hand on the small of Kaida's back, before leaning in and whispering her plans into the girl's ear.

"That isn't going to work!"

"Oh, you don't think so? Fine, if it doesn't work, i'll teach you knives for your seventh birthday."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Just as quickly the younger dashed from the room, Mai following behind at a leisurely walk. It was a few turns throughout the Fire Lord's wing of the palace, before you'd reach his study. Finally making it to their destination, Mai gave her daughter a quick head nod, a silent go ahead to put their secret plan in motion, before following and closing the door behind them both.

—

She crawled across the floor, tiny hands and feet staying as silent as possible as she approached the desk. Just as her mother had mentioned, Zuko was sprawled out on its surface, head resting on disorganized papers, and his voice carrying in a soft snore.

She stayed there a moment, looking back to her mother for reassurance, and receiving another small nod, causing her to crawl closer. Her hands reached out, tiny fingers reaching for a couple hairs, wrapping her fingers around their ends slowly as not to wake him up.

"Now pull—-_hard_." Mai whispers, egging her on and jerking her hand in a pulling motion

"You're sure he won't be mad at me?"

"If he is, i'll pin him to the wall."

Kaida only nods, taking in a breath before giving the small tuft of hair a quick yank.

—

He doesn't think he was dreaming of anything, unless maybe the calm was the dream. Duties had been hectic anyway so he wouldn't be surprised. He had laid his head down for an instant, brush in hand, and ink bottle just to his right. It was calming, and he drifted almost instantly.

A sharp pain erupted in the back of his head, maybe not even ten minutes into his nap, and he screamed and fell back, seeing the small flash of red fabric that moved out of the way upon his descent. His leg caught underneath the desk, hitting the wood and sending the ink bottle, and brush flying and landing directly on his face.

An irritated growl rung in his throat, and he tilted his head back, hearing the chorus of giggles and snorts that erupted from what he could already assume was his family.

"Mai! I know you planned this!" He barked, simply staying tilted backward where he fell on the floor.

"Mom was right! You are a dork!" Kaida responds, rolling around next to him in a fit of laughter, eyeing the black ink that now stains his face.

Zuko only pouts, running his hand along his face, which only smears the ink around more.

Mai quickly brings a hand to her lips, stifling her chuckle, trying to regain some composure so she can construe comprehensible speech. "Come on idiot, clean up, we're going to breakfast."


	7. Chapter 7

Word Count:401

Summary: Mai helps Zuko with his wound.

AN: I wrote this so fast it is suck ok, and like super short and loserly, and the end is suck I just wanted to write it.

"Hold still."

"It hurts!"

"I don't care."

Zuko's protests went on for much longer than expected, irritating whimpers and moans, small things Mai couldn't stand for more than a few minutes at a time. he had always been over dramatic, a little whiny, and not to mention, loud when it came to discomfort. When they were young, the firebender had fallen from a tree, and cried for an hour, meanwhile a very unamused Mai stood by and gave a disapproving, although comforting look. But right now, he was only being ridiculous.

Mai wrapped the bandages around his chest, trying desperately to make sure they were tight enough through his obnoxious wriggling. It had been maybe, the third time she tried, and each time they became looser and looser.

"Do you even know what you're doing?!"

"Zuko, I wrap my own bindings around_ my_ chest, yours is no different."

He grumbles twitching under the pressure of the next strip of gauze.

By the time she's finished, any small movement would cause all of her work to fall off. She gives Zuko a glare, noting his pout, before giving a soft poke in the chest.

"If it falls off i'm not wrapping it again, you'll have to make do."

Zuko doubles over, clutching his chest, groaning because the wound is still tender. "You're an ass."

"—and you're a big baby."

"Fair enough."

He moans in a pain a moment and Mai laughs, taking out a knife and slitting the fabric so it all falls back to the floor. "Fourth times the charm I guess." She mutters reaching for another roll of bandaging and holding it out so he can press it to his skin.

"Thought I'd have to make do?"

"Just shut up and hold this."

It takes six tries, and by the time she's finished, it's finally finally suitably wrapped, but Zuko's been poked in the chest far too many times.

"What the hell is your problem?!"

"You won't stay still."

"It hurts!"

"I told you, Zuko. I don't care." Zuko falls backward on the bed, and Mai follows suit nuzzling his side. "You're so stubborn." she mutters, although a small smile graces her features and she presses a light kiss to his chest.

"That one…didn't hurt." Zuko laughs before cupping her cheek and coaxing her forward to return the kiss to her lips. "But, if it helps, you're stubborn too."


	8. Chapter 8

Maiko month prompt: Nightmare

Warnings: None

Word Count: 853

AN: I'm not even sure, I was tired. That's all I know.

As pale as she gets it reminds him of bones. It may be only the second time he's seen it, the quickened palpitations and the way she stiffens, the syllables that fall from her lips in a frantic slur. It's hard to believe she manages to stay asleep through it all. On cue, Zuko's arms fold around her sides, bringing her into his chest, and through her dreaming she clings to the fabric that sticks to his chest through her tears. Normally it's him, the cold dampened skin, and the following shivers, sometimes the convulsions bring him to wake. Not her, the unleveled breaths and sibilant whispers only ensued. Zuko runs careful fingers through onyx strands and presses his lips to her skin.

Maybe one day he'll ask, why she chooses to silent is beyond anything he can comprehend. It may be fear that it concerns him, or worse that it concerns her, but whatever the reason he isn't sure. Finally, she stills, her muscles relax, and her breathing less ragged, and her grip lessens on his robes. That's the only thing that's keeps him from prying, knowing she ends up fine, and when she wakes, there's still that comforting smile tugging at the edge of her lips.

"Morning." He mutters, softly, finally having moved himself upright at the edge of the bed. "How did you sleep?"

"—fine, I guess."

He knows it's lie, but her expression keeps set in stone, so he stays as quiet as he's always had.

It's the flames and his screams, little things she remembers. Any time he's in pain the memory comes flooding back, and pools in her chest. Her parents paid for such things. To see a boy of only thirteen beaten and charred, strewn across the floor and laid to waste. He hated them for it, shutting herself off from them, along with everyone else. That's when she remembers, not a smile could be found, not a laugh, unless it was forced at one of mother's formal dinners, where the ends of her hair were curled, and there was gel on her teeth to plaster such an expression on her face. It was dull and idiotic, and almost barbaric, showing her off like a porcelain doll.

That could be it, the darkness, the three year slot where she felt, and was—nothing. She may as well have been an animal held for slaughter. Ty Lee had gone, leaving her more barren, without someone to even seek solace.

The way his mouth twitches slightly when he asks, as though there's something else there, the missing inquiry he has yet to state. She knows, and she isn't willing to answer. It hurts to think how many nights she waited for him, either of them, and how she simply cried, and showed that weakness she had now learned to suppress. It's always hidden meanings between them, subtle gestures, and little hopes that they just—get it. The only comfort is that they actually do, they'd been together long enough, to read signs that something was wrong, or that to know when to stay away.

Her hand slips into his and she positions herself behind him, legs coming out at his sides and her face into the small of his back. "I'm fine, really."

"You say my name a lot."

"I do?"

"Yes."

Mai's brow furrows and her grip around his waist tightens, "I just get worried, a little bit."

"About what?"

"That—" she bites her lip, and presses her face into his tunic, breathing in his scent.

"Mai?"

"I can't tell you, if I do, it'll happen."

That's how it always played out, she'd think too hard, because she had too much time. She was always calculative and precise anyway, so wielding those thoughts became her job, and the only negative thing that ever came from it, was whatever she calculated always ended up true. Those were the things she masked with boredom, trying desperately to find something to do, anything to keep her mind off of what could potentially happen.

"I get them too." he mutters, swaying backward into her touch before moving back, and resting his elbows on his knees. "About my father, or you."

"What about me?"

"Lot's of things, leaving, dying, always bad things…that's why they're nightmares, and I'm scared that if I say them they—might be true."

Mai's hands leave his waist at that, drawing back and finding their way up his shirt, and she runs her nails up and down the length of his sides, breathing with his sighs as she rests her chin. "I promise, I'm not going anywhere, for any of those reasons, but you have to promise me you won't either."

"I promise."

He's scared of that promise, since he breaks so many it's a wonder she can say it so sure. They're just dreams, but the fact that they could push them away with the simplest of words is what makes it so easy, almost breathlessly their worry can vanish along with their fears, and just a quickly she can say she isn't as scared of her nightmares.


	9. Chapter 9

Prompt Day 18: Sparring

AN: I don't even know where I went with this, I think I was trying to describe how they work as a couple, and I failed, but hey I got practice in writing action-y sequences sort of.

Word Count: 1095

"At this point I don't even know why you try." Mai shrugs, unpinning the firebender from a rather stubborn pillar for the third time that evening. A low growl falls from his lips, and his eyes are still set ablaze with a slightly unhealthy determination.

"Again." He orders, dusting off the ends of his training tunic and picking up his swords, disregarding the puncture holes that have now laid waste to the fabric.

Mai rolls her eyes and re-holsters her knives taking a few steps back. "No bending. I think that's a given." She smirks letting a small, thin dart shoot between her fingertips. It's almost effortless for her, but her eyes flick over to the grip on the handles of his swords and she almost let's out a chuckle. His knuckles have turned white and fingers are trembling in a bit of rage. "Is the Fire Lord, angry with me?" She teases, innocently biting her lip and cocking her head to the side, but keeping the cold metal twisting between her fingers.

"Angry isn't what i'd call it. More like irate." He spits back, his lips curling up into a snarl as he looks for the first place he'll make his move. It's almost like she cheats, the way her head tilts slightly just to taunt him, and how the faint red pigment of her lips is pulled into her teeth, and he loses his focus in her gaze. He shakes out it and focuses on the knife, unaware that he's playing her into her hand—again.

She's been playing this game just over a decade and he still hasn't figured it out. He's smart, a great fighter even, but when she plays into his weakness it's far too easy. A simple tease there, a small smirk here, little things, just to tug at his nerves, and he grows sloppy. It's sad really, traits she's picked up on her own, and when asked she had offered them to his sister for her oen, cruel disposal. "You do realize that is essentially the same thing, Zuko?"

Zuko pouts lessening his stance significantly, much more to Mai's advantage. He realizes that's a mistake and widens it again standing strong. "Just say go."

"Fine—" she starts, stalling a moment and tucking a few strands of the longer ends of her bangs behind her ear. "Go." With her signal the dart flies, lightly grazing his shoulder as he lunges forward and takes a very ill planned swing at her with the back of his blade.

Zuko grunts twisting around to follow her movements. "Would you stay still?!"

"You know, I could probably do this in my sleep." She sighs having ended up behind him and pressed a quick kiss to the back of his neck, before jumping back a safe distance, sending a few shurikens in his direction.

Another low growl falls from his lips as he knocks them away, a hint of satisfaction in his expression from hearing from the sound it makes as the metal collides. "In your sleep huh?" he smirks, dropping his swords, the same over done determination flaring up in the fiery shade of gold, "No bending, and no knives—that's fair."

"Zuko—" She sighs, pulling the holsters from her wrists and unstrapping the ones encircling her ankles, "—this still isn't going to end well for you." Mai smirks back placing a hand on her hip as though she's unimpressed. "You do realize i'm not rendered defenseless just because I don't have my knives."

"Just say go." he responds quickly, disregarding her snark and preparing himself.

"Suit yourself—_go_."

It's even for a while, no contact is made, and it's like a fluid well thought out dance, narrowly missing each other with each each extension of their limbs. Of course, causing any harm isn't their intent in the slightest, and so the misses ensue, and their gaze locked. Zuko ducks where appropriate, occasionally resorting to jumping to avoid being tripped, and Mai just as gracefully stays just out of range, calculative as always and waiting until his focus has wavered just enough to make a move. That's how they work, Zuko with last minute decisions that are based purely on luck, and quick thinking, and Mai planning ahead, and waiting for openings. Complete opposites in the form of strategy but similar in their means of meeting a particular goal.

After some time Zuko starts to look winded, and grows a little sloppy, and Mai sees that, his feet aren't moving as precise as she's used to so she takes advantage. Having calculated his movements it also left her with many chances to take to catch her breath.

"Too slow." She states, the corner of her lips turning up slightly as heel of her foot puts off his balance, having made contact with one of his ankles. He falls, and grumbles, pushing himself up just to glare.

"I'm starting to think you just cheat." he mumbles, taking her hand and pulling her down on the ground and into his arms.

"Just admit you overexert yourself, I've been trying to tell you that for months." she adds , rolling her eyes and pressing a kiss to his temple.

"It wouldn't be a problem, if you weren't a distraction." Zuko furrows his brow, but tightens his grip around her waist and pulls her into his chest. "It isn't fair really."

"Scared to hit a girl?"

"Maybe i'm just a gentleman."

"Or you're just a sissy."

"No one asked your opinion."

"You didn't have to."

They bicker like that a while, while, mostly because Zuko's pride is a little damaged, but nothing more, but Mai soothes it with a soft kiss every time he rants a too hard. it works that way, she softens him, makes him calm down, the way her slender fingers fit into his and her lips pressed lightly into his cheek making him blush and lose his train of thought. it isn't fair, but it works, and he loves that, and everything he can give in return.

Maybe it's strength or confidence, things her parents have stripped away at home. There, nothing matters, just her image, not her thinking or planning, those things are left on the shelf and her mother considers them a trait that should be left to rot. Here, she can be turned from porcelain to steel just by how he lets her think freely, do everything—freely, and she appreciates that because that's what she considers—fair.


	10. Chapter 10

Maiko Month Prompt: Fire and Steel.

Warnings: none

AN: Maiko Month day Twenty..something. I forget what number this was…this is short, and shit, by shit, I mean it's literal shit.

Mom took away her knives today, she says it'll make her better, but it ruins her. If she isn't in the palace, there's a void, and it's only filled when the sharp metal sticks in the wood of her wall. It's nice really, comforting, is what she'd call it, if anything. Mai thinks it'll make her useful, since she isn't to her parents, it's good to know the knives think so.

She's fifteen, and Zuko's only been back a week. She had left after sparring, and came home with her clothes singed, she should have guessed looking that unruly it would come with a punishment.

"All of them."

"I thought you used to hide a few under your pillow?"

"She found those ages ago, Zuko." she sighs, pulling her knees to her chest. It isn't fair, being reprimanded for such things, especially if their stealing away something that belongs to her, and only her.

"It's stupid, she steals that part of me and thinks it'll help. It's like your fire, no one can take that from you, why should they be able to do that to me?"

It's the second time she's collapsed around him, normally the walls are strong, but again, he notices, they can't hold up. "I.." he hates it, not being able to comfort her, the way the knives do. She's sharp and collected like them—precise, things he can't seem to wrap his head around, but he tries. He guesses they just understand better than he can.

"It's stupid, I know."

"It isn't."

"It is, I shouldn't whine."

"You have a right to."

He still doesn't understand, maybe he never will, he can get the parents part. Controlling. The weapon that they had stripped her of, was her own form of the word, something she could manipulate on her own, without their interference. He thought it was amazing, but he also thought she was.

"Fire is a part f me, you're right, but I don't always have control."

"You wouldn't hurt me."

"Never on purpose."

Her eyes say it, that she trusts him. He doesn't think she should, but he couldn't stop her if he tried. There's a safety about her, although dangerous, she has no intention of really hurting anyone. She makes choices on her own, all for the cause of protecting herself—and now him. The steely exterior is nothing compared to the softened interior that only Zuko gets to see. A trait melted and reformed through heat. She's a barrier, made of reinforced metal, and she only let's those walls down for him.

Unfortunately, even the trust that's swirls in the pale gold of her eyes isn't enough to get him to trust himself. He's unpredictable, destructive, and never chooses a clear path. Indecision clouds his intentions, and he tends take the course that could potentially end in ashes. He is fire, and she is steel.

No one, can take that from either of them.


	11. Chapter 11

Prompt Day 17: Scars

Word count: 574

Warnings: Self Harm

Notes: This is sort of post an RP me and Sadie did. That you can find here.

"Thirty six." She mutters, tracing the length of the last groove of scar tissue that runs the length of his side. "Still more than me."

"It shouldn't be a competition."

There's too many, she thinks, running over the larger ones. Most are minuscule, small scrapes and scuffs anyone could have acquired over time, and there are the larger ones. Likely from fights, some are burns, some are keep cuts that healed in jagged patterns and turned white through scarring. Others like the one's on his face and chest, dark ugly things, ones that she could say she hated, and found disgust, not in him but in the people who distributed them.

She couldn't see the distortion in his visage, no matter how gruesomely the rough patches, and charred tendrils extended through his skin, she couldn't see it. She thought it determined his bravery, his sacrifice, and just how much he had overcome. She almost envied it. How strong he was, how he had decided to never, ever, give up, no matter the circumstance.

A smile tugs at her lips and she lays her head on his chest. "Twenty-two." She says, letting the smile fade, and bring the tip of her nail to trace the tendrils that dance across his chest.

"It's Twenty-five." he corrects, bringing her hand into his and lifting her hand as he laces his fingers into hers.

There's so many, the lines, deep incisions, trailing diagonally, and horizontally, intertwining or overlapping, sometimes in parallels. His breath hitches in a pained sigh, and she notes it and closes her eyes. "So, twenty-five." She remembers the crimson, and the wet floors—but mostly she remembers his warmth, pulling her into his chest and his breath against her hair. her scars were nothing of bravery, but of cowardice, and she wasn't proud.

Thirteen, maybe more, line her wrists, and the rest are just the scratches and scuffs, the little things any one gains from a small fall or trip. She isn't brave or strong, and out of her fear of being just as inadequate as she seemed she dragged the end of the blade across her skin.

She doesn't know it but he remembers every time he looks, looking at the array of scars, and just how they bend with every movement of her skin. He remembers how he brought her into his chest, a damp, naked mass, arms coated in red, and how he promised he'd protect her, and failed at that. It only meant he hadn't done everything he could.

"—Why would you do this, to yourself, to me?" He murmurs softly remembering how he phrased those words so many months ago. His voice carries in a broken tone, and he bites back the tears that sting at the corner of his lids.

"I—" she trails unable to place it, bringing her finger back into a fist and shutting her eyes tight. "It was a tough time."

"You're okay now? We're okay?" He asked, keeping his focus on the warmth of her fingers intertwined into his.

"We're just fine." Her lips finally pulled back into a smile, and she opened her eyes, slipping her hand from his and placing it on the rim of the scar that painted his cheek. He promised they would be fine— he _promised._ And Mai had nothing else to believe in, even if he had broken every other one, she needed something, so that— she believed in _that. _


	12. Chapter 12

Maiko Month: Marriage

AN: It's short and sweet and I like it.

It's the way her hair falls down her back, or how she snores loudly at the strangest hours of the night. How her fingers curl gracefully over the handles of her knives, or the fact that she hates being called anything near cute. It's how her eyes can hold everything she's thinking. Subtle gold, painted with passion, and history, little ounces of emotions she'd never share with others even if asked.

It's how she can pull him out of his comfort zone, with a blatant effort, there's never any dancing around facts, or intricately placed smoke and mirrors. There's so much about her, how she judges his actions without restriction, unafraid to tell him he's wrong. how he never needs to explain his past—she's been there with him, through it all, she knows, what memories haunt him, and which can draw tears.

Zuko's hands picked up the brush and wrote every character and every ink stained line conducted a obscured thought. Things people should hate, how quiet, reserved, and blunt. Things he loved, that other people would need to see past. It was embarrassing, how he could so easily fill the page.

Each character and phrase dictates his passion, brushstrokes pulling characteristics and abilities from the depths of an already clouded mind. Things stemming from the beauty of alabaster skin, to onyx lashes and a voice that carried like a song. But without second thought, he knew his favorite thing, the thing that set his hand determinedly onto the paper, and his face to flush. It's how she can say 'i love you' with no words. So he left them out, no hint, no subtle nudge in the direction of the term.

_I __**L o v e**__ you_

A term far overused, and even when it fell from his lips it wasn't enough. Countless characters, and brushstrokes he could only imagine were slightly stained with with his own willingly given blood, painted the page.

And so, he stood there, reading off the paper, fumbling with his hands, and stuttering like mad, talking about flowers, and how she sleeps. Until she presses a kiss to his cheek, and his cheeks flush red and he takes a breath.

"Mai, will you marry me?"


	13. Chapter 13

Maiko Month day 30: Apathy

AN: I remembered the number of the dayyy ahaha when there's only two more left. This one, will kind of be a two part, finished with the prompt Rage so here ya go.  
Summary: BlueSpirit!Zuko x Mai AU and for some reason I needed some Jet brotp thrown in for fun.[That may or may not turn into Jaiko depending on how i'm feelng]

She's beautiful, and she's grown more than he expected. It'd been, about three days, and he silently moved about the rooftops each night, keeping his gaze locked on raven strands, and just how elegantly they laid in contrast with the green of her robes.

It happened on a Tuesday, he'd been out trying to compile a list of tea leaves for the shop, all the while avoiding Jet (to no avail.) In fact, the annoyance that had an odd fixation with wheatgrass had almost blown his cover.

"What's with all the black?"

"Why are you here, Jet?" He huffed, drawing his hand back from the direction of where he had hidden his mask.

"C'mon Lee, you and I, we're friends right? I'm just payin' you a visit."

"Friends, would give fair warning before visiting unannounced." His teeth ground together, and his hands gripped the edge of the dresser, before turning, letting his expression fall into something as blank as he could manage. "—even though, this wouldn't be the first time."

"Okay, so that's twice I came over, so what?"

"Two times, too many."

He'd almost forgot his 'name', hearing the three letters not quite resonate with his mind caused him to wrinkle his nose in protest, before letting out a sigh. Jet finally sits, legs crossed on one of the mats on the floor.

So long as he's quiet, and doesn't speak far too much he isn't much of a headache. That's a compliment in one aspect, that he's tolerable, and someone to actually talk to from time to time, but now, he. Just wanted him out.

"So you never told me what the outfit was for."

"Work."

"You wear an apron for work, dumbass, what's the deal?"

He couldn't tell him, that he found her, that she was—here. After three years of inconsistency she had reappeared, as she always had, and he couldn't even proclaim it. He couldn't announce how it gave him a wave of comfort, how the warmth began to pool in his chest at the thoughts of home.

"I just—I have somewhere to be, you can wait here if you want."

Words played the Freedom Fighter's lips for a moment, and his mouth opened and closed quickly, taking whatever phrase he had planned back with his breath. Once the silence grew, Jet leaned back on the mat, and Zuko took that opportunity to slip the mask out from behind the dresser, and tie its sashes to his belt.

"Fine by me Lee, have fun out there with…whatever it is you're planning on doin'."

Zuko gave a nod, and stepped through the window sill, before taking to the rooftops. It was easy then, although a windy, he pulled up his hood and slipped on the mask, double checking that his swords were still sheathed on his back. Running felt like flying, and the only thing to pull him in aside from gravity was the sound of the shingles against his shoes.

Countless roofs, and various stories brought him to the upper ring. Creaking plaster turned to ornate green and gold, and the patter of his footwork changed. Soon enough, he found his place, positioning himself on the edge of a large apartment building. Below was the small glow of a fountain, the candles lit and bobbing in and around the water's edge. He waited, for hours and some minutes, before she appeared, green tinted robes, and gold sash, and her hair kept immaculately in the same buns he had remembered, aside from the loose bunches of strands.

It was empty, and she sat, her gaze shifting a bit, before her hand retreated into her robes. Zuko watched anxiously, his knees starting to ache from being bent, and his brow furrowed behind his mask. Out of dicomfort he readjusts, and he wasn't careful for a loose shingle slips, falling and shattering like glass on the ground.

Just as quickly he's almost hit.

He thinks to run first, and the crimson tinted metal lodged into the roof almost screams it too, but mindlessly, he jumps down, staying quiet, and lucky the mask hides his expression, and he can see she's hiding her's too. His feet shift silently and he watches as she moves down an alley trying to see where he's gone. At that, he jumps back up, leaping across a few spaces and getting to the roof just above her where she stops.

"Normal people, would run when they're spotted." Her voice comes out in an almost drawl, and her eyes hold an intensity that he can't place. "You're right up—there." Her wrist flicks and another knife flies, he's quick to respond and jumps quietly, cat-like, drawing his blades and crossing them around her neck.

"I don't want to fight."

"You were stalking me."

"It wasn't stalking, I was just…"

"Says the man in the mask, with his swords to my throat."

He stops talking then, questioning if he should walk away, his voice is playing at emotion, and her's plays at none.

"It's childlike really."

"What is?"

"The man in disguise, and you probably see me as something stupid like the damsel in distress."

"You just tried to kill me."

"So you're claiming self defense?"

He let's his hands drop, and immediately she turns, pressing a blade to his throat in return. Zuko inhales sharply, tilting his chin back, and closing his eyes to hide the gold of his pupils. "I said I didn't want to fight."

Her expression doesn't feign, just as apathetic and cold as when she was alone. "It's not much of a fight. If it was, it might be more entertaining."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

Mai's hand draws back, and she places the blade back in her robes. "I've been disappointed plenty, my entire life, what makes you so different?"

"How's that?"

She rolls her eyes and starts heading back, silently, he follows debating whether or not to take to the roofs again. "—stalker."

"I'm not—"

Without hesitation she throws another, grazing his arm and pinning him sleeve into a nearby wall, he takes the hint, and pulls it out, jumping up to pull himself onto the gold trimmed shingles, half looking back, watching the green of her hair, and the flow of onyx, and now as he remembers that subtle shade of gold.

Once he gets back to the shop, Jet's asleep on the mat, so he slips the mask into its crevice, and sits crosslegged on the floor. Zuko let's out a huff, before drawing back an arm and delivering a quick jab into his shoulder, "get out." He directs, watching the tan boy shift on the floor.

"—do what you had to do?" He mumbled groggily, running his hands through his hair wildly before rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah. I did—it was, entertaining."

Jet arched a brow, noting the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. "You're such a fruit."

"How's that?"

"All that sneakin' around for a girl?"

"When did I say this was about a girl?!" His face flushed red then, and Jet curled forward letting out a chuckle. "She look good?"

Another eye roll, and he lunged putting the other boy in a chokehold, "It's not like that alright!"

"Oh yeah, judgin' by the fact that you just attacked me I'll believe that." His hands gripped Zuko's forearms and he leaned forward swiftly, taking his weight with him, and slamming him onto his back.

"It was self defense." He grunted, glaring up at the boy who had somehow managed to keep the wheatgrass poised between his lips between all that.

"I can tell you're feeling somethin' for her. It shows on your face, she like you too or what?"

"Can't tell." That was true, through no outright set of emotion he couldn't even tell if he scared her in the slightest, which meant he guessed he'd have to find out.


	14. Chapter 14

Maiko Month prompt Day 31: Rage [2 days late]

Continuation of Apathy

Summary: Part two of BlueSpirit!Zuko x Mai shenanigans.

AN: I cut it short, so it doesn't feel as completed as I wanted, I might just…iono I might write more on it later. And I cut out Jet, which makes me sad, so I'll have to def write more.

* * *

It happened differently the next time. He was able to sit, and watch and observe. She'd sit vigil, read a book lazily, and he couldn't help but wonder what she was straying away from. Literature was always her escape, next to knives, (which he now knows she had continued to practice during his leave). It was easy to ask when he was thirteen, they were close then, but now she wasn't even capable of putting a name to his face.

Distance, as it was, apparently shattered them both. Zuko had to throw away his name sake, and Mai lost all ability to be herself. They were the same in that way, lack of identity, or at least they had buried those things within themselves.

She didn't know she could find him so easily behind a streak of blue, and he wasn't even aware she missed him. Oblivious insight into the other's thoughts, and Zuko could only guess how it would play out had he revealed himself.

His mind wandered too far the last night, and she found him again, perched on the edge of a rooftop, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Are you going to tell me why you've been watching me?" No fear, and no shock laced her tone, just as before.

Zuko jumped then, being pulled back into reality, and reaching to run his fingers along the curves of his mask. Being sure, he was maintaining his masquerade. "No reason."

"Oh, I'm sure, because everyone just picks a girl to stalk in Ba Sing Se."

"Stop calling me a stalker!"

A smirk tugged at her lips then, "—stalker."

Zuko growled, resisting every urge to leap downward, and force another altercation as before. A soft breath breath from his lips, and let himself calm down. "I just—I come here every night, it's not my fault that you do, too."

"So what's with the mask?"

"I'm not everyone's favorite person."

"It's no reason to hide your face."

"It's more complicated than that."

"Then at least have the decency to give me a name."

His own played at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to tell her, and remove the mask, and see what she thought of the man he had become, but instead, his breath hitched before it could even start to annunciate the first letter.

"Lee."

"Well, Lee. It's nice to meet you."

"—and yours."

"Good try, but no." Her face fell into a deadpan, and she reached up into her sleeves. Reflexively he tensed getting ready to move as soon as her wrist flicked.

Of course as he expected, she threw, and he dodged (albeit a little narrowly.) They stayed that way, Mai throwing, and Zuko not being able to make any ground. He bobbed and weaved fluidly, and Mai almost wanted to applaud his persistance before throwing her last stiletto, and watching it graze the size of his mask. It cut straight through, and he paused breathing hard as the shallow gash in his cheek spilled red over the blue.

"Dammit, Mai." He growled, running his fingers up his fingesr across the rim of the crack of his mask.

"—-wh-what'd you just call me?"

It clicked then, and her brow furrowed, trying to put together pieces. He—knew her. She knew she hadn't given her name, so how could he possibly have derived such a thing without any former influence on the thought.

Zuko panicked, sprinting in the opposite direction, his breathe sloppy and ragged, and his heart throbbed in his chest. He could her steps behind, quiet and precise, and he attempted to take back to the roof. Before he could even gather his weight he was slammed into the wall.

She tripped him, it was pathetic. She used his panic and sloppiness and tripped him. "Who—are you?" Her voice held a quizzical tone, laced with more question than he was capable of answering. Zuko shifted awkwardly, trying to find his footing and a way to get her out of the way. She noted that, and pressed a knife into his chest, the point balancing perfectly over his pulse.

"Don't move.." she almost whispered it, and her free hand slipped behind his head, pulling back his hood, and revealing hair, and then she went for the sashes.

"Mai, stop.." he closed his eyes, there was no used hiding that fact now, he knew her name, and within seconds she'd know his.

She pulled at the last knot, letting the painted wood fall to the floor. At first, she just examined her handiwork, the blood of the gash, and the trail of crimson down his cheek. Then the left, rough, marred flesh, dark and healed over and she could tell it must've stole some sight. He breath had caught, and her expression almost faltered, showing something had he seen, would likely be considered pain.

He opened then, revealing gold, and meeting the softer shade of her own, and instantaneously looked down. "—so I take you remember me.." he could feel the pressure of the knife removed from his chest, and he started to push himself from the wall. Instead, he was met with a weak, forced hit in the face.

"Remember you, Zuko?" Mai's eyes narrowed, and he could see her anger, she was seething, and she should. He left her alone for three years, for nothing but a childish mistake. "Tch, of course I remember you, idiot. You left—and you…you never came back!"

He closed his eyes again, having seen tears starting to glaze over the gold. "You know I never wanted—"

"Look at me!"

He opened his eyes just slightly meeting her gaze once more.

"How long have you been here."

"A few months."

"When did you find me?"

"A couple weeks."

"Why didn't you—ugh! Agni-dammit Zuko!" He hit him then, repeatedly, each blow getting weaker and her eyes starting to grow more clouded with tears through her rage. She had dropped her emotionless visage, and he took her hits as they came, until she stopped, and she was only left with a weak beating on his chest.

He took her hands then, holding them in his own, before trailing them up and wiping her tears. "I don't remember you ever crying."

"Because I never have, not in front of you."

He was panting, his breath shaking lightly, and now the wound on his cheek bled more. She collapsed into him then, clinging to his shirt, and burying her face into his chest.

"You're so stupid—" Mai's words came out muffled, just above a whisper, and instinctively she wrapped her arms around his waist.

He didn't need a forced out, broken, 'i've missed you', he knew. Careful finger trailed up her back, and rested on her head, pressing her there, his face buried into her hair. "I know, and I—never meant to leave you alone."


End file.
